Thanksgiving Dinner
by theconsultingtardisbananaangel
Summary: Stony. Steve and Tony are lonely, because it's Thanksgiving, and they have no family to visit. (I know Steve can't get drunk, but it helps the plot.) Lemon.


Tony Stark woke up shivering. It was late November, and he couldn't seem to get warm. He couldn't even remember what it felt like. His bed was far too empty with just him, and the mansion was unnaturally quiet.

"JARVIS. Play me some music." JARVIS obliged, and the house was soon filled with the jarring sounds of heavy metal. It made Tony's head throb. "On the other hand, maybe not." The music stopped, and he felt ringing in his ears. The silence was palpable. He got out of bed and wandered over to the closet, looking for something to warm him up. He pulled on a hoodie that used to be quite form-fitting, but now hung on him like a baggy T-shirt. He rummaged around, and came across a ludicrous Fair Isle sweater that some fan had knitted him years ago. It had the usual patterns, in beige and brown, but there was an inaccurate arc reactor depicted on the front. He pulled it over his head, sighing. It fit, though it was a little long on the arms. He put the baggy hoodie on over the ugly sweater so he didn't have to see it.

He walked through the house to the kitchen and poured himself some cereal. _Stale. That's just wonderful._ He didn't really feel like eating, so he poured it down the garbage disposal and got out a bottle of port instead. He went over to the window and watched as snow began to fall. It looked like a bad storm could be brewing. _It's not supposed to snow, it's Malibu. And it's November._

"JARVIS, what is there to do today?" Tony asked. _Not like I'll do it._

"Sir, you have no outstanding deadlines. There are no entertainmennt venues open."

"Why?"

"It's Thanksgiving, sir." The rich wine suddenly tasted sour in Tony's mouth. He forced himself to swallow, but didn't pour any more. He had never had anyone to celebrate Thanksgiving with. His parents were always away, and then they had died. He had split up with Pepper a few Octobers ago, once he had realized that she could never be more than a mother figure to him. She still worked for him, but she was with her own family. He sat on the couch and pulled a blanket over his body, suddenly aware of how lonely and tired he was. He buried his face in a suede pillow. His eyes began to sting. _Thanksgiving. What a stupid holiday._ He couldn't think of anything to make him feel better.

"Why do people celebrate this, anyway?" Tony asked his pillow.

"To foster a spirit of love and goodwill, and to thank God." JARVIS responded.

"I'm an athiest," Tony grumbled. "But donate some shoes and socks to a Venezuelan orphantage or something, I guess."

"Will do, sir." Tony was still cold. But the loneliness was far worse.

"JARVIS. Can you get me a cat from a rescue? And some food and litter and stuff?"

"I'll contact the humane society right away. But you have a visitor."

"Let them in." Tony began to staighten up. _Whoever the hell is visiting me, I don't want to scare them away._ He brushed his teeth to ward off alcohol breath, and put away the port in a wine cooler. He heard someone beeping in a code at the door. _The visitor must be someone important._

"Tony?" He turned around to see none other than Steve Rogers at the door, with one of those reusable canvas shopping bags in his arms. "I, uh..." He looked down. "Um, you don't have family anymore and I don't have family anymore and it's Thanksgiving, so I thought... I bought a casserole?"

"A casserole?"

"Um, yeah. Most of the restaraunts were closed, so I went to a grocery store. And bought a casserole."

"That's... Yeah! We'll have dinner! Let's go to the kitchen, and see what I have." Tony grinned. Steve was too thoughtful for words. He forgot to be grumpy as he led the muscular blond with his casserole through the house.

"It's a green bean casserole."

"That's good. Green beans are one of the only vegetables I can tolerate. Let's see what else there is here." He stuck the casserole in the oven, ordering JARVIS to keep it warm. He went to the cupboard with Steve and opened it up.

"You don't have too much to work with here," Steve pointed out.

"Yeah, I usually order in. Or just don't eat."

"I can tell." Steve looked at Tony, gaze lingering on the rather skinny body.

"I've got... condensed milk, canned corn, lima beans, flour, sugar, baking powder diced tomatoes, vanilla icing, green food dye, stale granola, maple syrup, pasta, canned pumpkin, and bakers' chocolate. There's milk, eggs, butter, tofu, and cream cheese in the fridge, and strawberry ice cream in the freezer."

"Well, you can bake the pasta in the pumpkin and cream cheese, and blend together flour, corn, eggs, and baking powder for a souffle. We could use the rest of the pumpkin and some butter and flour to make pie, and bake the granola with the maple syrup to sprinkle on top. Tofu's a relatively new thing, so I've got no idea what to do with that..." Steve trailed off as he realized Tony was staring.

"You... never fail to astound me."

"Thanks?" Steve looked away. Although he was a superhero, he was uncomfortable being praised. _He's like my alter ego._

"Let's get started, then." Tony had a lot of cooking tools for someone who didn't cook. _Hell, I really do have everything I need._ He pulled out a never-used food processor and dumped in the corn and a few eggs.

"No! Not too many eggs! It'll be too flat. Here, like this." Steve scooped some egg goo out of the food processor. He blended everything else together, and only added more eggs when he knew he needed them. Tony stepped back, determined to study Steve's every move. But his eyes soon moved to Steve's expression. The admittedly handsome face was in a dreamlike state, one corner of his mouth pulled back in a rare, genuine, smile. He worked as if soufflees were as easy to make as toast. Tony pulled out a baking pan when he was done, and Steve poured in the yellow batter and set it next to the green bean casserole to bake.

Next up was the pasta. Tony put on water to boil, and stepped back to let Steve cook. He sat on a counter, watching as the blond moved around the kitchen, pouring and stirring and sifting and tasting. He looked so at home, so sure of himself. _You're full of self-esteem, yet still humble. Whereas me... I can't get enough of the spotlight, but can't sleep at night, I'm so filled with self-hatred._

"Tony..." Steve paused from rolling out a pie crust, arms covered in flour, to look at the small man. Tony cursed himself, realizing he must have spoken out loud. "You have nothing to hate yourself for."

"Yes. I do. You don't even know." Tony looked at his hand. He scraped skin off of his thumb with his forefinger.

"Try me." Steve crossed his aarms, and leaned back against the counter.

"Do you know how many people have died because of Stark Industries? You can't know, because nobody does. The body count's too high. I'm selfish. I hog all of this money, sit on my gold throne, and do nothing for the rest of the world. I show off every chance I get, and I've ignored the most important thing there is. Hell, Loki's a better guy than me, and he's evil."

"Yes, but don't forget how many lives you've saved. You're the Iron Man. But you're also a genius, unlike any other. I know for a fact you're not just a billionaire, you're a philanthropist. You're giving Andrew Carnegie quite the run for his money. And the renewable energy thing, that's slowly saving Earth. You designed it singlehandedly." Steve paused to bite a thumbnail. "You've got a lot to be proud of." He looked at the floor, and then went back to his crust. Tony's face was burning.

"I'm just... lonely." He didn't really have anything else to say.

"I know how that feels," came the response, almost too quiet for Tony to hear. "I've lost everybody. I have nothing. My family, my friends, Peggy...Even the youngest kids I knew in Brooklyn are dead or dying." He rolled the crust faster and faster. Finally he snapped the rolling pin. Half of it went clattering to the floor, the other half clutched in his fist. His muscles relaxed, and he unclenched his jaw. "Sorry. That was...That was uncalled for."

"Here. I'll finish the crust. You should have some wine or something. Orange soda? Ginger ale?"

"Do you have grape soda?"

"I've got every kind of soda you can imagine. Pepper went a little nuts with the soft drinks last time I was addicted. It's in the closet by the dining room, over there. I'll roll this crust for you."

"No, you'll kill it. Don't even touch it. Don't even breathe, or- or think, or anything." Steve hurried to the soda closet and got two cans of grape soda. He tossed one to Tony, a perfect throw, but Tony was lost in thought. It flew over his shoulder and exploded behind him, sending the sticky purple fizz showering down on Tony. He gasped.

"Steve!" He yelped.

"Shoot! Sorry, I'll get you a towel." Steve ran off to the bathroom and Tony stood in the kitchen, drenched in soda. He peeled off his sopping wet hoodie, teeth chattering. Steve came back and began to dry him off roughly.

"C-careful, th-that-that's too h-hard." Tony took the towel and wrapped himself in the now-purple fabric.

"Um, Tony, I know I'm not the fashion expert, but that sweater is..." Tony had forgotten all about the ugly thing.

"Right. It's all grapey now, anyways. I'll go change."

"I'll finish up this pie." Steve heard Tony throwing things around in his room, and he completed the dessert. He began to set the table. They had managed to come up with a nice spread: Steve's green bean casserole, the pasta, the corn soufflee, which didn't come out too badly, and the masterpiece of a pie. Steve fished out the strawberry ice cream from the freezer. Tony had suggested baking the tofu with some breading, but there was no telling how that would turn out. He set two seats across from each other, and was putting out napkins when the lights went out.

"Damn!" Tony shouted from the other room. Steve chuckled as he saw the smaller man. Tony was dressed in a button down, and it was quite the bizzare look for him. The daylight was rapidly ending, and soon it would be dark. They were stranded without electricity, without JARVIS.

"Got any candles?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, Pepper bought them a while ago. They should be in a cabinet somewhere..." He ducked into the kitchen and came back with a rainbow assortment of candles. He stuck them in the center just as the sunlight faded.

"Uh, we might need matches."

"Right." Tony went back to the kitchen. It was quite dark now. There were no windows. He opened his shirt to let the light of his arc reactor fill the space. He found a lighter in a drawer, and returned to light the candles. There were about a dozen or so, and they set off a nice light.

"Well, shall we eat, then?" Steve didn't bother to point out that Tony's shirt was still open. Having a candlelight dinner alone with him was awkward enough without implying that he had looked at Tony's chest.

"Are you gonna say a blessing or something? I never do, I'm an athiest, but if it makes you happy, you're welcome to..." Tony was rambling, well aware of the situation's awkwardness.

"I don't need to."

"Okay. Well, I'm hungry. That cooking wore me out." Tony's stomach rumbled, punctuating his sentence.

"Excuse me, who cooked?" Steve smiled.

"Well... I uh, added an egg. To the soufflee."

"And almost ruined it."

"Well, let's see how it tastes!" Tony began to pile food on his plate,and Steve followed suit. Everything soon had a dent taken out of it, except the tofu.

"Here. Have some tofu." Steve looked a little intimidated by the beige, wobbling square.

"Uh, no. Guests first."

"It's your food."

"You cooked."

"I'm allergic to soy."

"Dude, I've seen you drink a soy milkshake."

"When did you see that?"

"Uh..."

"Let's, um, skip over the tofu."

"Good idea." Tony took a bite of his corn soufflee. It was fantastic. Everything was. They ate seconds, then thirds, and then got some pie. The strawberry ice cream was a little freezer burnt, but neither of them cared. Tony and Steve began to put things away. When the last little spoon was put away, Tony poured them both some champagne.

"Tony, I don't drink."

"One glass? It's not like you'll be going anywhere. The house locks up when the power goes."

"Okay, one glass. Only for you. But let's go back to the other room, with the candles." They sat down at the window, watching snow fall into the ocean. The house was silent, apart from the occasional swallow or clinking of glass. Tony poured more champagne into Steve's glass whenever he could. Steve didn't notice, or pretended not to.

"Steve..."

"Yeah?"

"What you said earlier? About not having anyone?"

"I... I was wrong. I got Thor, and Natasha, and Bruce, and Clint... And I have you." Tony poured more champagne into Steve's glass. He watched, but didn't say anything. More silence.

"Steve." Tony spoke to fill the silence

"Toe-knee." He didn't notice it before, but Steve was slurring.

"You're drunk."

"And?"

More silence.

"Steve..."

"Shutup, Toe-knee."

"You really don't drink, do you. Ever." It wasn't a question.

"Ony fur you." Tony looked at Steve. The blond was gazing at him. Tony bit back panic. He couldn't ignore it any longer, any of it. He pulled Steve to him, and their mouths met. Steve let out a little whimper, and pulled Tony onto his lap. Tony's eyes opened, but closed again as he started to kiss back.

_I'm kissing Captain America._

Steve tasted like champagne. He was warm, so, so warm, and Tony wanted nothing more than to stay in the embrace forever. He slipped his hand under Steve's sweatshirt. Steve pulled back suddenly.

"This is... You're a guy."

"Yeah. I've noticed."

"I'm a guy."

"Right again." Tony was starting to get worried.

"We're both guys."

"Yeah." Tony dug his fingernail into his thumb again.

"I...I'm definitely not..."

"I'm not gay either. Yet here we are."

"What will people think?" Steve's eyebrows knit together.

"We don't have to tell them."

"I've…never done this, even with a girl." Tony giggled before he could stop himself.

"Seriously? You could have any girl you wanted."

"I don't… I guess I don't really want a girl." Steve kissed Tony again, fervently. Tony closed his eyes. Steve began to bite his lower lip. Tony grunted.

"Steve. Bed. Now." Steve grunted. He lifted Tony off of his feet and carried him to his bedroom.

"I can walk! I can walk, you horny bastard!" Tony punched Steve's back. Steve just rolled his eyes, and lay Tony down in bed. They began to kiss again, but it was Tony's turn to pull back.

"What is it?"

"Uh, I'm not too sure how this works…" He stopped short when he felt something pressing against his thigh. Steve blushed furiously in the light of the arc reactor. He rolled over, now laying beside Tony.

"Okay." Steve sounded disappointed.

"Uh, lube. We'll need that. Second drawer on the nightstand." It was the only thing in the drawer. Tony tried to swallow his nervousness. He heard the little bottle open and some grunts as Steve spread it over himself.

"Tony, are you sure?" Steve's face was pale with undisguised lust.

"Yeah. Just….Be careful. You're huge." Tony bit his toungue and rolled over.

"Mmhmm." Steve gently removed Tony's jeans and boxers. He gently rubbed Tony's entrance. Tony gasped. His eyes fluttered closed, but shot open again as Steve entered a finger. The feeling was so…alien, so…new. He heard himself groan. Another finger. Steve began to move them around, and

"Hhhnnnggh." Tony's chest tightened. "Enough. Steve. Now- OH!" Tony cried out as he felt Steve begin to push himself in. Steve groaned softly, moving slowly. Tony's world was on fire with pain.

"To-Tony." Steve was completely inside him now.

"Sowly, Steve." Tony wasn't drunk, and he could tell that Steve had little control over his body at the moment. Steve paused. Tony was completely helpless. This was new. He always, always dominated. He whimpered into the pillow.

"Bite." Steve put two fingers in Tony's mouth. He pulled out slowly, aware of Tony's discomfort. Tony bit down, hard, as Steve pushed in again, faster now; and the fire filled him again. Steve lost control. The friction from Tony's walls, combined with the sharp pain in his hand, sent him over the edge. He moaned loudly, and entered Tony again and again, faster and faster. Tony whined below him, until suddenly he felt Steve hit a perfect spot.

"Steve! Steve. There." He panted. The pain combined with a new frontier of pleasure, nothing like anything he had ever felt with a woman. Steve obliged, and Tony saw stars. Steve was going so quickly now. Tony sreamed into his pillow, and Steve cried out his lover's name with every thrust.

"I'm- Ah! Tony!" Steve couldn't hold back any longer. He spilled into Tony, and Tony grunted as he was filled with the hot liquid. Steve pulled out of Tony, and rolled over to lie next to him on the bed. Tony rolled over, into Steve's warmth, his hand on the smooth, enhanced chest. Steve sighed contentedly.

"Steve, that was- that was…." Tony toyed with a perfect pink nipple.

"You're still- Here." Steve covered Tony's aching erection with two large hands. Tony bucked his hips into the touch, and it didn't take too long for them both to be covered with Tony's seed. They were spent, exhausted.

"Oh. My god. Steve." Tony was babbling. His head hit perfectly under Steve's.

"You still have soda in your hair."

"I guess we'll have to take a shower." Tony moved a hand to Steve's muscular ass.

"But it's warm here…."

"Tomorrow then." Tony closed his eyes and melted into Steve. Soon the blond's heartbeat lulled him to sleep, and he was finally warm.

The next morning, Steve woke up to the doorbell. He panicked for a minute, not knowing where he was, but Tony grunted in his sleep, bringing last night's events to his mind. He smiled and ran a hand through the sleeping man's hair.

"Master Steve, the door," JARVIS said. _So the electricity is back._ He paused a minute to grab a bathrobe from the closet. He looked at the pristine snow on the ground, and walked through the house to the entrance. A disgruntled forty-something stood at the door.

"Mister Stark? Your cat."

"What?"

"You ordered a cat...right?"

"Uh? Oh yeah. The cat. How could I forget?" Steve pretended to know what he was talking about.

"Great. Here's the cat. The paperwork's taken care of. Have fun with her." The man handed him a carrier, and got into his van. He sped off, as if afraid that he would change his mind. Steve was left standing in the snow, practically naked, with a mewling kitten.

"Steve? Tony was awake now. He wore boxers and a T-shirt.

"A cat?" Tony tilted his head, and then remembered.

"Yeah. His name is now... Steve Junior."

"Steve Junior? But the man said 'she'..."

"I don't care. She's Steve Junior. Tony kissed Steve, and took the carrier into the kitchen. "Do you think she likes tofu?"


End file.
